


Rebuilt

by Viridian5



Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: Canon - Manga, Drama, Gen, Missing Scene, New Body Parts, New Job, new life, new partner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tres adjusts to his new operating status.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebuilt

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for “Gunmetal Hound” in Volume IX. Music used in the writing of this fic includes _Year Zero_ by Nine Inch Nails and _Delta Machine_ by Depeche Mode.
> 
> Having read Tres first meeting Abel in “Gunmetal Hound,” I really wondered how they got from _that_ point to the congenial partnership they have in the present day. Fic ensued.
> 
> I’ve sometimes seen the bishop’s name as “Garibaldi” online, but I’m using “Baribaldi” to go along with the Tokyopop edition I read the story in.

“Your new body parts are satisfactory, Tres?” Cardinal Caterina Sforza, Her Grace, Duke of Milan, the Iron Lady, his owner, asked as he stood in front of her in her office. “We used Bishop Baribaldi’s notes and designs.”

Humans thought her beautiful for her looks, so shallowly, while Tres thought her beautiful for far more than that. He remembered her lowering herself to kneel in the pool of his vital fluids--the red of it soaking into her fancy pure white petticoats and probably staining them forever--to touch his face and chest, cradling him, as she claimed him and refused his request to be completely destroyed as the other prototypes and their creator had been. He’d made the request due to how badly damaged and utterly defeated Crusnik had left him and the loss of his purpose for being. She had given him a new purpose and a new ideal to strive for. He remembered how soft and warm her hands and the trailing ends of her long, blonde hair had felt and how she’d seemed to blaze with light as he’d looked up at her. Beautiful.

“Affirmative,” Tres replied. “Professor Wordsworth used the specs and gave them a few effective upgrades. A diagnostic scan confirmed that everything has fully integrated into my system.” Wordsworth had even put a tattoo of Tres’ designation of HC-III X on the wrist of his left arm as it had been on his previous left arm, an unnecessary but appreciated touch. Although Tres didn’t feel human emotion, he found the continuity of having that mark again satisfying. “He speaks of further future improvements to make me faster, stronger, and more lethal.”

“What do you think of that?” she asked. 

“Conceived and installed properly, as these have been so far, they would help me serve you better, which is my intention.”

The installation of his new parts and today’s private meeting in Her Grace’s office put him closer to being put into operation as her protector and weapon, something he hadn’t been able to do as just a torso and a head. Cardinal Caterina and her people had offered to put him offline as they constructed his replacement pieces, but he’d refused and used the wait to access, integrate, and reprioritize data in his memory, something he could still do without arms and legs. He’d downloaded personnel files and read anything he could find on political situations in the world and within the Vatican. Cardinal Caterina had many rivals in the Vatican, one of whom was one of her brothers. Tres would need to protect her not just from physical weapons but also from rumor, subterfuge, treachery, and innuendo. He would have to be smart, devious, and subtle. 

Her frail health would probably force him to be devious and subtle as well, as he would protect her from herself if he had to, something her pride and commitment to her work would make difficult. No matter what threatened, he would protect her life.

He had to go offline during installation, but as soon as he came online and his body moved properly he requisitioned and donned the uniform of a low-ranking initiate to walk around in and get his bearings of the people here. He looked like a nondescript young man and took advantage of that, using the experience to get him acclimated to undercover work, something his lady seemed to want him to do in the future. 

He’d also done some solo practice fights, getting accustomed to his new parts and the AX enforcement officer/priest uniform. He now had to take a long coat, scarf, and rosary into account while moving. 

“Tres, I have a partner in mind for you but you might not approve of him given your recent experience. It’s Father Abel Nightroad, Crusnik.”

“It is not my place to approve or disapprove. I know his power from experience and that he’s your secret weapon.” Nightroad’s massive scythe had sheared away first Tres’ right arm then also his left arm and everything below his waist, leaving Tres lying amidst the dismembered bodies of the rest of the HC series units, Unus through Decem, in a large pool of their mingled vital fluids. If he had been human, his dismemberment, the sight of the hacked up bodies of his nine identical “brothers” lying around him, and remembering how his “father” had shot himself in the head, with the sound of his last speech and suicide piped directly into Tres’ earpiece, might have left him traumatized. (His own face in a state of catastrophic systems failure nine times over....) Fortunately, machines did not engage in unnecessary thinking. “I’m curious about your reasons for pairing us.”

“You’ve seen a bit of Crusnik in action, but you only saw Abel operating it at 40%. He can take it up to 80% but sometimes loses control at that level. Crusnik’s destructive capabilities are immense and don’t always spare human partners. Also, people are afraid when they see him like that. You’re more durable, and you already know about him. Since Crusnik is classified, most people in the AX don’t know about it, and it’s something Abel is only allowed to use when facing ridiculous odds. My hope is that your abilities can help make sure situations don’t reach that state, and you’ll mostly work with him while he’s in his human form. He gained those powers from being experimented on.”

Giving Tres something to bond with him on? It didn’t quite work that way, but Tres wouldn’t spurn Her Grace’s attempt to be kind. He wouldn’t let her know that he also saw right through her suggestion to talk about the rebellion with anyone he felt comfortable with. _Humans_ needed to rehash data in speech to others; _he’d_ already given a full, official report of the rebellion. “I will have no difficulties in working with him.”

“Good. Here are some important facts. The Crusnik is a vampire that feeds on the blood of vampires. Abel doesn’t like the Crusnik part of him, which had been implanted into him during some of the experimentation. He’s much older than he seems; Crusnik gives him amazing regenerative abilities, faster and better than what vampires have, but he has to periodically transform into it to get the full effect. If he stays in human form while seriously injured for a long enough period and doesn’t have access to vampire blood he _could_ die... and he has a worrying self-destructive streak. I first met him when he saved my life, and he’s an old friend of mine.”

Almost none of that had shown up in Father Nightroad’s official records, not even in the classified version.

While practicing his abilities to go undercover, Tres had observed Father Nightroad’s non-Crusnik side. Few people would suspect that Cardinal Caterina’s monstrous secret weapon of mass destruction had a tendency to act foolish, babble, and ingest far more sugar than a normal human could tolerate. Although Tres had suspected it to be a kind of subterfuge, Father Nightroad performed all of that all the time. Nightroad might have been doing it for so long that at least some of it might have become genuine and instinctive. 

“Query: Does your dissemination of this data mean that you’re asking me to place Father Nightroad at a higher priority on my protection protocols than most other AX members?” Tres asked. Although Nightroad’s power as Crusnik suggested that shouldn’t be necessary, the self-destructive streak....

She smiled a little. “To a point. Mainly, I want you to realize that some caretaking will be involved.”

“Official paperwork suggests that he has a bottomless appetite for human food and no skill in fund management.”

“Among other things. Sometimes you’ll have to be stern with him. I expect that with time you’ll figure out when to indulge him and when to make a stand. If we coddled him, he’d run wild.” 

Father Nightroad entered the office after a warning knock. Although Tres had seen him in non-Crusnik form before from a distance, it still came as something of a surprise to see him looking so human and soft, with the silver hair that had stood up before currently down and tied back with a ribbon and with blue human eyes behind glasses instead of the red with slit pupils that had stared into Tres as he’d been sliced apart. Father Nightroad’s posture showed some tension when he noticed Tres standing there but he came to stand beside him regardless.

“Abel,” Her Grace said, “AX enforcement officer Father Tres Iqus, also known as Gunslinger, will be your partner on the new mission and possibly for missions to come if you work well together.”

Tres would not disappoint her. If their partnership didn’t work, it would be Father Nightroad’s fault... although Tres would do his best to keep Nightroad working at it as well. 

“After everything that happened?” Father Nightroad asked.

“Tres says he’s okay with it, so you certainly should be.”

“I take no offense in actions taken under orders. Bishop Baribaldi used us to rebel and take over Sant’Angelo, and Her Grace could not let that stand,” Tres replied. “You are her scythe as I intend to be her gun. If Cardinal Caterina ordered me to kill you, I would do so.”

“...goody,” Nightroad answered. “That makes me feel so confident about going out alone on a mission with you.”

“Tres won’t kill you unless I order him to, Abel,” Cardinal Caterina said. 

“I’m sure that will be very comforting to me while I’m lying dead in a ditch because he managed to justify it as protecting you.”

On the one hand, Tres couldn’t help finding something satisfying in Father Nightroad considering him a threat despite his earlier ignoble defeat and near-destruction, but on the other it took the element of surprise away if Tres did need to delete him.

“Tres will _not_.” Cardinal Caterina gave Tres a very significant look, and he nodded to show he would obey. “Abel, be serious. This is not the time.”

Nightroad straightened up and his whole demeanor changed, apparently switching his resident tactical mode from foolish to professional. Tres had suspected it worked that way. Nightroad hadn’t said anything about Tres being dressed like a priest of the AX but Nightroad might be a “priest” the same way Tres was. (Although Tres _had_ downloaded and processed all the related literature.) Maybe Nightroad saw stranger things all the time. 

“I expect this mission to require violence, a great deal of it,” she continued. “Although hopefully not so much that Tres will have to go to genocide mode, so I definitely don’t expect Crusnik to make an appearance either. I don’t want either of you to damage yourselves needlessly.”

“Understood.”

“Tres will handle the money.”

“I can--”

“No,” she said definitively, and Father Nightroad stopped attempting to argue. 

“My lady, will we have time to practice together before we have to leave?” Tres asked. “We’ll work together better if we know each other’s capabilities. Professor Wordsworth has given me some upgrades I didn’t have during the rebellion, while I haven’t seen Father Nightroad fight as a human--something I need to know if we won’t be using Crusnik--and you told me that I didn’t see Crusnik at full capacity. Although you said Crusnik shouldn’t be needed on this mission, it would be good to have an idea of Father Nightroad’s full range if things go badly, something official mission reports suggest happens often.” 

“That makes a great deal of sense,” she replied, looking proud of him for his suggestion, which gave him an odd sensation of warmth in his chest. “I know where you can practice together without worrying about damage or being observed. No one is currently using the practice hall. Abel knows the way. I trust that you two can get there without arousing everyone’s interest in trying to watch what you do there.”

“I’m confident I can,” Tres said, “however, Father Nightroad is more visually striking. And loud.”

Somewhat disappointingly, Nightroad didn’t rise to the bait and simply replied, “It’s a different kind of stealth.”

Cardinal Caterina handed Tres a folder containing information and their train tickets and said, “Settle it amongst yourselves. Dismissed.”

Tres bowed to her on the way out, while Father Nightroad simply waved. 

As they walked through the halls, Tres noted again that he appeared to be shorter than a lot of the men here. The Killing Dolls had been designed for speed and precision, not an imposing appearance, which had some benefits but could occasionally... somewhat... annoy. Tres attracted a bit of attention, but his keen hearing picking up the murmur of passersby let him know that it came only from him being unfamiliar but paired with a known face. Tall, almost pretty Father Nightroad attracted far more looks, yet it didn’t seem to be keen attention. A lot of people dismissed him almost as soon as they saw him, although some of the nuns, especially the younger ones, became a bit giggly in his presence, especially if he waved to them. He softly hummed a jaunty tune and walked quickly; at least one person wondered aloud if he were on his way to lunch. Better understanding what Nightroad had meant about using a different kind of stealth, Tres kept pace.

“You’ll be a heartbreaker, Tres,” Father Nightroad said. 

“...search reveals no definition for this term,” Tres answered.

“That young, sweet face and wayward hair, and those big brown eyes.... Some people will want to mother you. You should let them down gently.”

Tres assured himself that he’d learn to better predict Nightroad after more experience with him. “You’re intending this as tactical information?” He could see how “letting down” such hopefuls “gently” might make them easier to handle when he needed data-- Wait. “Is there a problem with my hair?” It did what Tres presumed hair should but stood up somewhat. 

“No, it’s cute. Don’t worry about it.”

“I will not. Humans worry.”

“While you’re a machine.” Nightroad sounded and looked sad as he said it. 

“If you prefer human partners--”

“That’s not it. I don’t. Just.... Oh, good. We’re here.”

Father Nightroad turned on the lights as soon as they entered, not that Tres needed light when his eyes had night vision mode as well as infrared. He noticed exercise equipment, targets, mazes, and an obstacle course in the very large, otherwise somewhat shabby room. It made sense not to waste fine wood and marble in an area staff would shoot in.

“I don’t know what Caterina told you about me,” Father Nightroad said, “but you have to know that I won’t work with someone who kills and injures indiscriminately. I don’t like putting civilians at unnecessary risk and I won’t endanger one to accomplish a mission if there’s any other way, even if I have to put myself out a bit. I don’t see civilians as acceptable collateral damage no matter what the situation is. I don’t believe in killing everyone who opposes us either, not if there’s another way.”

“I don’t do anything ‘indiscriminately.’” If he killed or damaged civilians, it would be for practicality’s sake but Nightroad apparently opposed that also. “Why are you giving me this warning?”

“Bishop Baribaldi trained you as well as created you. I know that his idea of ‘unnecessary risk’ didn’t match mine or the Vatican’s.”

The Vatican had denounced Bishop Baribaldi’s work developing the Killing Dolls as inhumane and put a halt to the project. Tres and the others hadn’t understood where the “inhumane” label had come from; it wasn’t as if they were human. When Nightroad had faced Tres and asked him to surrender after dispatching the other nine Killing Dolls he’d said that he hadn’t wanted to spill “any more human blood.” The Vatican had the wrong idea about them. 

“I perform perfectly within stated parameters.”

“So I just stated them. Another thing is that sometimes we come across old, pre-Armageddon technology. I have the security clearance to shut it down or command it to self-destruct.”

Such technology had existed so long ago that it had been either forgotten entirely or translated into magic and miracles through human retellings. “My lady let me know that you’re old but not that you’re that old.”

“I’m remarkably well-preserved.” Father Nightroad took out his gun.

“Negative. You’ll show me Crusnik first.”

“Why would you want to see it again?”

“I saw it before under very different circumstances. Your official record, even the classified version, contains many holes. If I’m to work with you efficiently, I need to see everything.”

Father Nightroad’s mask of cheerful foolishness had fallen away completely. “Everything.... I can assure you that you won’t want to see _everything_.” 

“I must. I will not fail Cardinal Caterina. Your duty demands you help me in this.”

Nightroad sighed then put away his gun, took off his gloves and glasses, and removed the ribbon from his hair to let it fall freely. “Nanomachine Crusnik 02 loading. Limitation at 40% acknowledged.” 

Tres watched the transformation process carefully, knowing he could review the data later at any speed he wished, and saw hair rising, fangs lengthening, fingernails lengthening and curving into sharp claws, blue human eyes turning blood red and the pupils narrowing to slits.... The red-black massive scythe appeared, complete, a massive blade at each end, seemingly out of thin air. Tres knew how sharp it was from the way it had cut right through him so quickly, easily, and cleanly that he hadn’t even sensed the disconnection from the rest of his body, systems failure, until he hit the ground. It took 3.67 seconds. Father Nightroad currently looked almost exactly the same way he had when he’d dismembered the entire Killing Doll line. 

Despite his fearsome appearance, Father Nightroad looked at Tres somewhat uncertainly, obviously uncomfortable with being observed so closely. 

Crusnik 02. “Query: Are there other Crusnik operational?” 

“I know two are dead,” Nightroad answered softly, although his Crusnik voice sounded like a gravelly growl. “The third I’m not certain of, but it’s been hundreds of years.”

Tres touched the flat part of one of the scythe’s two largest blades. It subtly vibrated and felt warm, something that also held true for the weapon’s “spine” and the smaller but very sharp vertebrae-like blades. “Is this your blood?” Some categories of vampires could manipulate their own blood into weapons.

“Yes.”

“Is your blood a contaminant human allies and civilians need to be careful of?”

“The Crusnik need to bond with their host to have any effect. I can’t infect anyone. Thankfully.”

“Her Grace said that 80% is the highest level you operate Crusnik at. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Show 80% to me.”

“I might attack you at 80%.”

“I will not present a threat to inspire that, and I will trust your self-control.”

Hearing the dare in it, Father Nightroad cast him a resentful look and made his scythe vanish then took off most of his AX uniform, everything above the waist. His clothing had disguised the long, lean, defined muscles of his physique. “I already destroy enough uniforms,” he explained. “You’ll get used to destroying your own on various missions. Cardinal Caterina will expect it, not that she’ll always admit it. Nanomachine Crusnik 02 loading. Limitation at 80% acknowledged.”

Black feathered wings sprouted from his bare back, all of his teeth sharpened, his fingers and claws lengthened, his demeanor became darker and more threatening, and a larger version of his scythe appeared. Humans would think he belonged to some category of demonic dark angel. Tres felt an increased electrical charge in the air and saw electricity course over Crusnik’s body. Crusnik gathered some in his hand and flung it like horizontal lightning at a target, destroying it.

As a machine, Tres did not feel emotion, but seeing how outclassed the Killing Dolls had been elicited a reaction, almost an easing. Falling in combat to an enemy this powerful.... 

But Tres would develop ways to protect himself in the future. 

“Can you fly in this form?”

“Yes. Have you seen enough yet?” Nightroad rumbled, his voice sounding deeper and more bestial.

Nightroad’s surprise looked almost comical as Tres walked right up to him and touched one of his wings, noting thirteen different shades of black throughout. He didn’t have the data to know if it felt like a bird’s wing, but the feathers felt soft or stiff depending on where he touched them and smelled faintly like ozone and a kind of blood. The electricity made his hair stand up a bit more. The wing shivered a bit in his hand then disappeared completely as Father Nightroad abruptly changed back to human form, his wings, longer teeth, and claws seeming to pull back into his body in a quick blur, the scythe disappearing, his hair falling like a curtain. 

Nightroad quickly put the rest of his uniform back on with somewhat jerky movements, and something in his face suggested a kind of shock and hurt. Lady Caterina had warned Tres that Father Nightroad could be fragile in some ways and told him to be careful, yet he’d pursued a small vengeance anyway. Unwilling to disappoint her, he would be more cautious in the future.

But he would also archive this data about Father Nightroad in his combat memory.

Father Nightroad even put his glasses back on, even though Tres’ earlier scan had confirmed them to be plain glass, no prescription, and tied his hair back with the ribbon. “Now can we shoot things?” he asked lightly, fully performing his “featherbrained” tactical mode even for his current audience of one.

“Affirmative.” Although Tres had already put his new parts through their paces and seen how well they worked, he’d show Nightroad how much better and faster he’d gotten. Besides, no one aside from an HC series could do ricochet shooting so accurately, let alone with two guns at once. His restoration had put things right again, since a Killing Doll that couldn’t shoot or move on its own had no reason to exist. 

Rewriting resident tactical program, switching mode from search to assault mode. Commencing combat.

When serious, Father Nightroad turned out to be good with a gun and faster and hardier than a standard human. He made such a distinction between himself and his Crusnik form, but perhaps Crusnik carried over more than he admitted. Or perhaps all pre-Armageddon humans had been like him. 

Perhaps Crusnik hadn’t been the only experimental enhancement he’d received.

Insufficient data.

“Are you bored?” Father Nightroad asked as he shot another target. “I can tell you’re not all here.”

“Stationary targets present no challenge, while the hurled targets launch at predictable intervals.”

“You’re bored.”

“Negative. My other calculations keep me occupied.” 

“Thus, bored.”

“My lord, you set some conditions on our partnership. I have one of my own: that whenever you fight at my side you do it seriously. Cardinal Caterina deserves no less.”

Father Nightroad looked surprised but simply answered, “I agree.” Good. 

  


* * *

“Given your orders, Tres was against it, but I made the decision to use Crusnik,” Father Nightroad told Lady Caterina as he and Tres stood side by side in front of her desk. “There were too many more vampires and murders going on than reported, and part of the village was on fire. I took out the vampires while Tres rescued and protected the villagers and fought the fires.”

Tres had barely used his guns during the mission, which had seemed wrong to him but apparently necessary. The villagers had offered him and Father Nightroad a chance to wash up thoroughly before they left, but since everything they owned stank of smoke and blood they hadn’t bothered with it beyond cleaning their faces and hands until they returned to the Vatican, where they’d washed and changed uniforms before giving their official report in person to Her Grace.

Tres had wanted to observe and record Crusnik in action against vampires for future reference but his own duties had sent him away and left him too busy. 

“A little girl Tres had rescued from a burning building later gave him a flower crown in thanks,” Nightroad continued. “It was so cute!”

Tres hadn’t known what to do with the woven ring of unidentified, fragrant blue, purple, and white flowers when the child gave it to him. Father Nightroad had taken it from Tres’ loose grip and set it atop Tres’ head, which had made the young girl and some nearby adults smile. Father Nightroad had said to Tres a little later, as they’d walked to the train station, “Our work isn’t _all_ about killing people. Thank God.” 

“I am a prototype of the HC--Homo Caedelius, ‘humans for murder’--series. A Killing Doll. Killing is my purpose,” Tres had replied. 

“Lady Caterina wants you to protect people as well, and she thinks you’re capable of more than you apparently do.”

“...I will not disappoint Her Grace.” He would exceed his parameters for her.

After Tres had taken the crown of flowers off while redeeming their tickets, Father Nightroad had put it into his own pack, atop other items. Incomprehensible due to insufficient data.

“None of the vampires escaped me,” Father Nightroad continued, “and I burned their bodies afterward.”

Tres had asked him why he’d taken the time to dispose of the corpses when he could have left it to the villagers, but Father Nightroad had tried to avoid answering that. When Tres wouldn’t let it drop, Nightroad had finally admitted that Crusnik had rendered the bodies into messy pieces and he hadn’t wanted the villagers to deal with that, which made Tres realize that he’d been reluctant to talk about it out of not wanting to remind Tres what Crusnik had done to _him_. As Tres started to protest that, Father Nightroad answered, “I know, I know, you’re a machine and you don’t care, but it seemed considerate. Don’t tell me that machines don’t need to be treated considerately either, because _I_ don’t care and will continue doing it to make myself happy.”

“It sounds like a successful mission,” Lady Caterina said. “Do you agree, Tres?”

“If you are pleased, affirmative,” Tres replied.

“Was it a successful partnership?” 

“Tres is efficient, a good fighter, good company, and cute to look at, so I’m fine with it,” Father Nightroad answered. Having gotten used to Nightroad, Tres didn’t protest or comment.

“...‘cute to look at’?” she asked. 

Grinning, Father Nightroad answered, “You know I appreciate all the eye candy you put in the AX.” 

“Of course. That’s why I only recruit pretty people,” Cardinal Caterina said drily.

“But Tres’ arm is far too hard even without the armor, so I couldn’t fall asleep on his shoulder on the train. If you won’t let me take a sleeper car, then give me someone pillow-y to lean against on long trips.”

“As Tres would say, that’s immaterial. Tres, would you be willing to partner with Abel again the future?” 

Tres thought about it. Father Nightroad had obviously fought seriously, as requested. “As long as we make an effective team, which we appear to have in your eyes, I have no complaints or preferences. In any case, it’s your will, not mine, that matters.” 

“Excellent job on the mission, Tres. You’re dismissed for now. Return in about an hour. By then I should have finished my discussion with Abel about some expenses from his last mission.”

“Heh. Are you sure you wouldn’t be willing to stay to protect me, Tres?” Father Nightroad asked.

“I have my orders,” Tres replied then bowed to his superior. “Thank you, Your Grace.” As he left the room, he pondered useful things he could do in that hour to please her. 

  


* * *

“Thoughts, Abel?” Caterina asked as she patted the edge of her desk. 

Abel sat down as directed. “He’s very closemouthed, but I detect some signs of PTSD, completely understandable given what he’s been through. He’s also so smart that it’s difficult to sneak any kind of treatment options on him.”

“I noticed that myself.” 

“He saw right through my idiocy so I couldn’t slip anything past him. That’s rare.”

Caterina steepled her hands together. “Abel, he sees himself as a _thing_ and thinks I _own_ him.”

“If we hadn’t let him continue to define himself as just a machine--and as a machine commanded to continue operating by his new owner: you--he would have willed himself to death. Better a live Tres than a needlessly dead one. Whatever his origins, he _is_ mostly machine now so we can’t even have that cathartic moment of ‘look at what you really are.’” He shook his head. “Baribaldi terminated all the specimens he couldn’t brainwash into believing they were machines, partly because many specimens went mad or died if they believed themselves humans throughout his process.”

“Suicide was too kind for that man. How far have you gotten through his notes?” 

“Far, but you saw for yourself that it was rough going. He was very thorough and pedantic, no doubt because he figured that people would declare him a genius if they could only see the entirety of his work and thinking. I’ve been in the... care of people like him.” 

“I know you’re familiar with the type.” She appreciated Abel’s unique perspective and knowledge.

“Maybe Tres can adjust given enough time. We’re still new to each other and recently first met as enemies, so he’s defensive and prickly. And somewhat passive-aggressive. At times he tried to manipulate me through my guilt over what I did to him.” Abel actually smiled genuinely. “Sometimes he even succeeded. He has some issues--don’t we all--but I think he’ll be an asset.”

“You like him.” Caterina had hoped Abel and Tres could help each other if partnered up. 

“I do, though I don’t want you to think I haven’t seen right through you on this. It’s sweet of you.”

“The Iron Lady has no heart, Abel.”

“Of course not.”

  

### End


End file.
